


Faster Than Light

by treepyful (treeperson)



Series: Working on Love [2]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Ensemble Cast, F/F, Gen, Gossip, POV Multiple, Small Towns, is the devil's telephone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:54:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29923377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treeperson/pseuds/treepyful
Summary: When Stevie is seen driving into town with a stranger, people have questions. They’re not gossiping, though.
Relationships: Jocelyn Schitt/Roland Schitt, Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Ray Butani/Ivan, Stevie Budd & David Rose, Stevie Budd/Ruth Clancy
Series: Working on Love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2200572
Comments: 31
Kudos: 44





	Faster Than Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alabamapeach](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alabamapeach/gifts).



> At the end of Business/Casual, there’s a text exchange between Stevie and David where David asks when he can meet Ruth and Stevie says “literally never”. Then alabamapeach commented “ _“literally never” had me guffaw especially since there's no way david won't meet ruth in the next week with the size of that town_ ,” and honestly, yes, hard agree. Thus, this fic was born. Thank you alabamapeach for the unwitting prompt. 😉
> 
> Set about a week after Business/Casual.

Oddly enough, it started with Ivan.

Ivan wasn’t one to gossip. Like any other citizen of Schitt’s Creek, he’d been a _source_ of gossip occasionally over the years – once because of his wardrobe malfunction at the charity bonspiel, one time that was entirely Bob’s fault, and most recently due his newfound romantic relationship – but he himself wasn’t one to spread the news. He didn’t like turning other people’s lives into chatter.

It was just unfortunate that when Ivan saw Stevie drive by, too distracted by the unfamiliar (but very pretty) woman in her passenger seat to return his wave, he was standing on Ray’s front steps and waiting for a response to his knocking.

So after Ray opened the door and they exchanged a kiss in greeting, Ivan said, “I just see Stevie Budd – do you know who her friend is? I did not recognise her.”

Ray’s eyebrows went up.

\----

Ray wasn’t one to gossip. It was beneath him, really. Other people could do what they wished and it was of no concern of his. His mother had always told him that gossip was the result of idle minds and idle hands, so he avoided it as much as he could – mustn’t give the impression that his businesses weren’t going well, after all. Besides, Mrs. Harrison over at Yarn 4 Cheap was known for wagging her chin at all and sundry, and the word on the street was that her foot traffic had decreased exponentially of late, so it just goes to show.

But when your boyfriend asks you a question about the unknown companion of a dear friend, well, it wasn’t gossip to then ask your closest confidante about who this individual might be. It was just information seeking, which was very different.

So when Ray and Ivan bumped into Ronnie at the café just a short fifteen minute walk later, Ray leaned over the table between them and asked, “Do you know who Stevie’s friend is? She came back to town with someone we don’t know.”

Ronnie frowned.

\----

Ronnie wasn’t one to gossip. The circle of people she cared enough about to take an interest in their personal lives was quite small, and anyone outside of that circle could kick rocks. Gossip was just something bored fools did to stay engaged with the world instead of actually participating in it themselves and she had no time for that sort of nonsense.

That said, when there was someone within that small circle who had a question mark attached to them in some way, she got curious. After all, it was human nature to want to make sure your people were okay, for all the definitions of okay that exist, and it wasn’t gossip to take an indirect route to get the confirmation.

So when she passed by Roland on her way back to her desk, she braced herself against his open-mouthed chewing and obnoxious pop drinking in order to ask “Has Stevie said anything to you about bringing someone to visit? I thought it might be motel business.”

Roland paused mid-chug.

\----

Roland wasn’t one to gossip. Really, he didn’t have to. People came to him with their problems, asking for his mayoral help in solving them, and he kept their secrets to himself. And hoo boy, did the secrets come. He knew things that would make your hair curl (or straighten, for that matter), and there was a subset of people that he knew he could make a pretty penny out of one day if he ever decided that blackmail was a good way to make money. It was his backup plan for when Johnny eventually tanked RMG.

Telling Jocelyn all these things definitely didn’t count as gossip, either. She was basically sworn to secrecy, same as him, simply by nature of being the mayor’s wife, and Roland was pretty sure he’d literally explode – like, _ka-pow_ – if he wasn’t able to tell _anyone_ the things he knew. He was only human, jeeze.

So when Roland went to pick Jocelyn up after work, the first thing he said to her after they kissed hello was “Have you heard anything about Stevie making friends from away? She brought someone to town and we don’t know her.”

Jocelyn put her hands on her hips.

\----

Jocelyn wasn’t one to gossip. It was an unfortunate stereotype that people tended to apply to her, partially because she lived in a small town and partially because she was sort of a local social centre point, but she despised the whole concept and took great strides to quash gossipmongering among her students. No one needed to stick their nose where it didn’t belong.

The things that Rollie told her weren’t gossip, though. He knew better than to tell her things she wasn’t supposed to know, and he took his mayoral duties seriously, so she figured anything about other people that came out of her husband’s mouth was both benevolently shared and fair game. She just wanted to make sure she knew what was going on in town just in case there were fires that needed to be put out later. She liked to be prepared.

Which meant that she wasn’t gossiping when she dropped by the Rose Apothecary and wandered around without buying anything until Patrick asked if he could help her. “Well, Rollie was just saying that Stevie’s back in town and she brought a friend with her, but no one knows who she is! Do you happen to know?”

Patrick tilted his head to the side.

\----

Patrick wasn’t one to gossip. God knows he’d been on the sore end of enough scuttlebutt to know exactly how annoying and frustrating it was, so he avoided participating in it as much as humanly possible in such a small town. It was hard sometimes, especially when someone was pressing him for details on some event or conversation or text chain that he didn’t feel comfortable sharing, but he did his best to stick to his guns.

But did it really count as gossip if you just asked your husband if he knew that his best friend was back in town? It didn’t feel like gossip. And it was really just a follow-up question to ask about who came with her, especially since Jocelyn seemed so concerned.

So when David returned from his coffee run to the café, Patrick did precisely that. “Do you know who Stevie brought into town? I didn’t even know she was coming back today, actually.”

David stared at Patrick, a gleam in his eyes.

\----

David was one to gossip, no question. He could take the high road to defend himself and explain that the term “gossip” was just a misogynistic spin on good ol’ information sharing, and that sometimes gossip was the best and safest way to share important details among certain populations, and he did actually believe all of that, truly. But he also just loved talking some gentle shit about other people and their business. It was cathartic and petty and genuinely enjoyable in a way he was only a tiny bit ashamed of.

Which meant that the look on Stevie’s face when she opened her apartment door to see him standing in her hallway, carrying a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of very fine pinot gris and wearing what he could only assume was a shit-eating grin – well, he was going to dine off her shock and outrage for months (maybe years) to come.

“Oh, hi,” he cooed, shimmying his shoulders at her. “I heard you were back, so I thought I’d come over to welcome you home.”

“How did you know?”

“What’s the only thing that moves faster than light, Stevie?” David asked, glancing over her shoulder at where a woman – presumably Ruth – turned the corner to come into view. He gave her a winning smile and she returned it hesitantly.

Stevie sighed. “Small town gossip.”

“Small town gossip,” David confirmed. “Now are you going to let me in? You’re being _very_ rude.”

Stevie put up a good front – she usually did – but David saw her mouth twitch into a pleased little smile as she stepped back, and he let himself relax, trailing a supportive hand over her shoulder as he entered the apartment.

“Honestly,” she said, murmuring just loud enough for him to hear, “I’m surprised it took you this long. We’ve been here for hours.”

David shrugged and handed her the wine. “The mill’s slowed down a bit since Mom left.”

Stevie just shook her head in amusement and introduced him to Ruth.

**Author's Note:**

> Moral of the story: always wave back.


End file.
